First Aid hadn't thought he'd be angry, but seeing Ratchet's face almost makes him wish that he'd run into another medic besides him. Of course Ratchet wouldn't be resting, though. Ever vigilant, never getting enough recharge, even when he was hurt. He turns his head to the side as the older mech checks over the twist of wiring and broken metal at his shoulder, venting softly.

"Pharma."

He wish he'd gotten the chance to kill him again. He wished that Ratchet hadn't just let him go. He feels frustrated-- which is all he can really feel right now that doesn't involve more anxious weeping.